


Becoming

by White Aster (white_aster)



Category: Chii's Sweet Home, Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Animals, Community: no_true_pair, Crossover, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-29
Updated: 2008-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_aster/pseuds/White%20Aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kitten -- Chii, Larsa had said her name was, short for the Old Arcadian 'sumochi' or 'tiger' -- danced out of the way of his feet, though, and looked at him reproachfully.  "Mya?  Myaaaaaan?"  Very untigerlike, despite her stripes, she sniffed at the air and wound herself between his greaves, tiny paws stepping heedlessly on his armored boottops.</p><p>SPOILERS for the end of FF12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming

The armor, Basch has decided, was the easiest piece of his brother's life to get used to. It was the smaller things that continued to plague him: Noah's preference for the opera (which reminded Basch of cats fighting in a sack, with less grace involved), his love of strongly spiced dishes (Basch had bid a fond farewell to most of his taste buds), his tendency to wake late but stay up well into the next day (which couldn't be more the opposite of Basch's natural inclination if it tried.) These and the thousand other minutiae of life were a constant bane. Penance and reminder, both.

Lord Larsa...His Imperial Majesty Larsa...aided him when he could, knowing more about Judge Magister Gabranth than perhaps anyone still alive. It also helped that there was a crucial few weeks after the battle over Rabanastre where Judge Magister Gabranth's duties were merely to be a hulking, protective presence at the new Emperor's shoulder as he attempted to forge together both peace and his scattered army at the same time. By the time they returned to Archades, Basch found himself, if not comfortable in Gabranth's armored boots, at least able to preserve the fiction. Though it did not keep that first day from turning his shoulders into a solid knot of tension, half-expecting every official they met to label him imposter.

Larsa, as they walked back from dinner out of the range of prying ears, gave him a sympathetic look. "You look...what was the phrase Vaan used...like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs?"

Basch smiled wryly behind the helm. "You could tell by the look on my face?"

"Of course," Larsa said, hands clasped behind him, the Imperial pose ruined by his impish smile. "Did no one tell you? The Emperor knows all." For a moment, Basch could see him refraining from sticking his tongue out, a habit that he'd picked up from Penelo. Larsa's face cleared quickly, though, brows frowning. "Ah. That reminds me. There is one other thing you should probably know before you retire to your rooms tonight. I'd hate to have you come upon her unawares."

Basch came to an abrupt stop with a clank. "...please do not tell me that my...that Gabranth has a lover."

Larsa's eyes widened, then he laughed. "No, no, nothing like that. Oh my, that would be a terrible mess, wouldn't it? But no, nothing that dire, I assure you. However...you might find yourself courting nonetheless. Gabranth always said that she was quite...miffed, I believe was the word he used...when he returned after a long absence." He resumed walking, looking at Basch with all seriousness. "I suggest a trip to the kitchens for provisions. I have heard she is fond of fish."

\-----

Outside Judge Magister Gabranth's quarters, Basch drew a deep breath, steeling himself as if for battle before opening the door and slipping in.

The servants had already been in, the lamps turned low enough to provide light but not glare. Basch's eyes roamed, looking for his...roommate. His eyes instead caught on the room itself. He had not thought before of how this was Noah's room. He wasn't sure what he'd expected. A bit of familiarity, perhaps. A bit of Landis. Instead...he could see bits and pieces of a life, though it was one he did not entirely recognize: a preference for dark blue, heavily padded chairs, and a desk filled with a small mountain of paperwork that Basch deeply hoped he could quietly burn. Then his eyes scanned the wall over the desk, and his breath caught.

The sword was fine enough, the design unique enough that, he supposed, no one would know that it was a Landisser blade. Landis had been more well-known for its spearcraft than its blades, after all, and this blade was one of a kind, with the length of a longsword but the curve of a saber, the blade subtly widening almost like a scimitar. Basch lifted Peacemaker from its hooks, mind filled for a moment with memories of sneaking a heft of the sword from his father's scabbard, his brother urging him to hurry, come on, it was his turn to hold it before father came back.... The balance was odd, as it always had been before: made for a man slightly taller, with arms slightly longer, and a contrary sense of--

"Mya?"

Basch startled at the noise and barely missed stepping on its tiny, furred source.

The kitten -- Chii, Larsa had said her name was, short for the Old Arcadian 'sumochi' or 'tiger' -- danced out of the way of his feet, though, and looked at him reproachfully. "Mya? Myaaaaaan?" Very untigerlike, despite her stripes, she sniffed at the air and wound herself between his greaves, tiny paws stepping heedlessly on his armored boottops.

Basch eased his father's sword back on the wall and knelt down, carefully. "Hello, there. I'm...quite afraid that I'm not who you are probably expecting."

"Myaaan," she replied, nosing unashamedly into his cloak.

"Ah, yes. The peace offering." Basch pulled off his gauntlets, then reached in for the packet that he'd liberated from the kitchens. The kitten sniffed at his hands, somewhat suspicously, as if she suspected something amiss, but was then distracted by the scent of poached salmon. Basch spread open the waxed paper, and she dove into it with a rather adorable lack of abandon.

Basch chuckled and pulled off his helm, setting it on the desk on top of a pile of papers. Chii glanced up at him, licked her whiskers in wariness, then dove back into her meal. "I see. So you care not who I am, so long as I give you tasty treats?" He ran a finger down her back and found the fur soft and kitten-fine.

"Mrrrt," she replied, back arching up into the caress even as her mouth continued to make frighteningly short work of the fish.

"Surely you've been fed while he's been gone?" Basch couldn't imagine any other arrangement, and indeed a quick inspection of the adjoining bath found a small set of water and feed bowls in a corner, both full. The bathing room itself smelled just as Gabranth's armor had smelled when Basch had first put it on, sandalwood and pine under the faint, familiar smells of sweat and blood.

Basch took a steadying breath, closing his eyes. Nothing about this, he reminded himself, would be easy. He'd known this. It changed nothing.

He turned, moving back into the bedroom and the armor stand. By the time he had the armor off and situated all in its place, Chii had finished her dinner and was sitting on the bed, watching him curiously with her head tilted to the side. "Myaa?"

"I did warn you," Basch said, moving over slowly and crouching down by the side of the bed. The ease of movement after fourteen hours in plate armor was refreshing. "Ah, but that was before the fish distraction, wasn't it?"

Chii sniffed him, sandpaper-rough tongue taking a swipe at the proffered fingers of one hand, then the other. She pulled back to sit on her haunches, black eyes regarding him seriously.

Basch found himself talking to her. "I know that I am not.... I am not him. I can never be him. But I must try, for his sake. I made him a promise, you see. That I'd take up his burdens. That I'd take care of the young Emperor." He reached up, scruffing his fingers gently through fine fur at the base of Chii's ears. "And I'll take care of you, too. I pro--"

Chii's eyes closed, a rumbling purr vibrating through his fingertips. She walked to the edge of the bed, butting the top of her head into his face. One ear flicked against his nose as she rubbed her head along his cheek with a satisfied "mryaaan".

Basch kept his eyes closed until the hot prickling behind his eyelids went away. There was no one but the cat to see, but still...he had a suspicion that were he to start, he would end up weeping for many things: his brother, his father, himself...and he was not yet ready for such an outpouring. Not yet. Not while there was still so much to do.

"Myan!" Chii nosed under his hand, wriggling her ears into perfect scratching position and looking at him expectantly.

Basch blinked hard and laughed, "Been remiss in my duties, have I?" He curled a hand under the kitten's middle, cradling her in the crook of his arm as he scratched the proffered ears. "I shall make it up to you, I promise."

_I promise,_ he swore, to his brother's helm, to his father's sword, to the young Emperor's smile.

Chii slumped blissfully against his chest, legs dangling, purring loud enough to put a couerl to shame.


End file.
